


Honey, There Is No Right Way

by Rhohemian_Bapsody



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Accidental Weddings, Falling In Love, M/M, Not really a slow burn, Talk of sex, but it takes a while for that to happen, but it's okay because there's a happy ending, drunk mistakes, talk of masturbation, they're embarrassed by their mistakes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:06:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26486140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhohemian_Bapsody/pseuds/Rhohemian_Bapsody
Summary: What?”“You were staring at me!”Freddie snorted and started laughing even harder.  “Girls, please.  What’s on your mind, Rog?”Roger sighed and set his glass down on the end table.  “Just… thinkin’,” he answered, his words a bit slurred.“Care to elaborate?”  John prompted, nudging Roger’s leg with his foot.“‘S just… I’m twenty-eight and I’m still single,” he murmured.  “I’m gonna die alone.”John’s expression softened as he looked over to Freddie, who also looked at him with a soft look.  “You’re only twenty-eight, though.  You’re still young.  Freddie’s thirty-one and still single--ow!”  He shot Freddie an eye after he received a sharp elbow to the ribs.Roger couldn’t help but giggle when Freddie elbowed John. “Doesn’t make me feel better, mate.  Maybe I’ll be thirty-one and single, too, with just cats to keep me company.”After the offended look on his face disappeared, Freddie grinned an impish grin.  “What if--hear me out--what if you guys got married?  Deacy, you’re single.  Roger’s obviously single, otherwise he wouldn’t be bitching about it-- don’t give me that look, Rog, you know you’ve thought about it before!  Deacy’s a total catch.”
Relationships: John Deacon/Roger Taylor
Comments: 35
Kudos: 39





	1. I Fall in Love Just a Little Bit

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this for a while now! I hope you guys like it!
> 
> Title is from "Someone New" by Hozier!
> 
> I'm going to try to make all of the chapters titled after Hozier songs (because I think he's neat)

John didn’t mean to get as drunk as he had that night. They’d just played an absolutely electric show that had completely sold out. None of them had expected it to go just as well as it did, least of all, John. Then again, he hadn’t really expected Queen to get as popular as it did. He was pleasantly surprised when they played their second encore. 

They were all absolutely buzzing with energy when they got offstage and headed back to their hotel for the night. Usually, they’d hit the clubs afterward. But this particular night, the four of them had come to the agreement that they just wanted to be in each other’s company. None of them necessarily felt like dealing with fans who might be at the bars-- the show was exhilarating but exhausting. However, a successful show called for a celebration with lots of alcohol.

“--And that’s why I think a hotdog is a sandwich,” Roger concluded with a definitive nod.

John nodded as well. “Funny, nobody asked you if hotdogs were a sandwich or not.” 

Roger gave him the stink eye. “Funny, I care a lot.” He sipped at the whiskey in his glass again.

“Right. On that note, I gotta go call Chrissie and go to bed,” Brian told everyone, then got up and went to get his shoes on. 

Roger scoffed, then lobbed a pillow at him as he walked away. “Pussy!” He teased.

Narrowly dodging the pillow, Brain rolled his eyes. “You guys are so gonna regret not going to bed now when tomorrow rolls around. Traveling with a hangover is the worst.” With that, he ducked out and headed back to his room for the night. 

John snorted. He had a fleeting thought that maybe Brian leaving the three of them alone when they were all incredibly intoxicated was not such a good idea. But that thought was gone as soon as it had arrived. He got up and shuffled over to the minibar to make himself another vodka and tonic. He didn’t get hangovers; he knew he’d be fine the next day.

After he downed what seemed to be his fifth or sixth glass of whiskey, Roger wiped his mouth with his sleeve and squinted at John, his expression focused yet somewhat vacant. 

John furrowed his brow and sniffed. He could feel Roger staring at him, then turned his attention to Roger. “Can I help you?” 

Roger grinned like the Cheshire cat, then giggled and got up to pour another glass of whiskey. “‘S nothing, man, don’ worry about it,” he responded, then flopped back down on the end of the bed with his whiskey and took another long drink from it. It was very clear that Roger had quite the buzz going. John watched him for a moment as Roger swayed slightly from side to side. He knew the blond wasn’t a lightweight. But he’d had several healthy pours of whiskey that night, and there was no sign of him stopping. 

The way Roger’s hair was a mess and his eyes were half-lidded in a drunken way had Freddie giggling. “You look ridiculous, Rog.”

Roger stuck his tongue out at Freddie. “You’re ridiculous!” 

Deciding to ignore their antics, John turned his attention back to his drink. Roger was just silly sometimes, especially when he’d had a few drinks in him. He took a sip from his glass again and noticed that Roger was staring at him, still. This time, instead of addressing it right away, John decided to stare back until Roger cracked. 

“What?”

“You were staring at me!”

Freddie snorted and started laughing even harder. “Girls, please. What’s on your mind, Rog?”

Roger sighed and set his glass down on the end table. “Just… thinkin’,” he answered, his words a bit slurred and his expression somewhat wistful. 

“Care to elaborate?” John prompted, nudging Roger’s leg with his foot. 

He pulled a face, then put his head in his hands and groaned. “‘S just… I’m twenty-eight and I’m still single,” he murmured. “I’m gonna die alone.”

John’s expression softened as he looked over to Freddie, who also looked at him with a soft look. “You’re only twenty-eight, though. You’re still young. Freddie’s thirty-one and still single--ow!” He shot Freddie an eye after he received a sharp elbow to the ribs. 

Roger couldn’t help but giggle when Freddie elbowed John. It appeared to take his mind off his woes, if just briefly. But soon, his expression shifted back to a morose one. “Doesn’t make me feel better, mate. Maybe I’ll be thirty-one and single, too, with just cats to keep me company.”

John sighed, then looked over to Freddie.

After the offended look on his face disappeared, Freddie grinned an impish grin. “What if--hear me out--what if you guys got married? Deacy, you’re single. Roger’s obviously single, otherwise he wouldn’t be bitching about it-- don’t give me that look, Rog, you know you’ve thought about it before! Deacy’s a total catch.”

“Fred, I’m not sure if that’s a very good idea…” John murmured. Though if he were to say that he hadn’t thought about the things he’d do with Roger, given the opportunity, he’d be lying. He’d never admit it, but he’d gotten off to the thought of Roger’s lips around his cock more than once. For a long time, he’d had a bit of a crush on their drummer, though he knew he could never act on it.

“And why the fuck not? We’re in Vegas; you can go down the street and get married by a fat Elvis if you bloody wanted to. The options are endless!” 

John and Roger exchanged a look. Maybe Freddie had a point. They were only in Vegas until the next morning, after all. Maybe getting married by a fat Elvis wasn’t such a horrible idea.

“Oh, fuck it,” John remarked, then got up and went to get his wallet. 

Freddie looked taken aback. “You’re not serious, are you? It was just a joke.” After the initial shock wore off, he looked like the cat that got the cream. John knew just how much Freddie loved it when people listened to his ideas, terrible as they might sometimes be.

“Yeah, come on. Roger’s tired of being single, and I feel like making a life-alteringly bad decision. You’re the witness… the best man... the... whatever, let’s just go.” He gave Freddie a firm shove. “Rog, up, let’s go.” He tried to take the glass out of his hand, only to be swatted at by an annoyed Roger. 

Roger sucked down the last of his whiskey and got up, taking half a second to steady himself. “Gimme a fuckin’ sec.” Once it was clear that he wasn’t going to topple over, he stumbled over to get his shoes on. He looked over at John and giggled. “We’re so gonna regret this in the morning.”

John grinned and giggled as well. “Totally,” he agreed. “It’ll be fun, though.” 

Freddie laughed. “You’re so not gonna regret it, you guys. This is the best bad decision you’ve ever made!” He grabbed his camera, knowing full well that this was an event that needed to be well-documented for posterity’s sake.

Linking arms with one another, they slogged out of the room and down the hall and outside, singing loudly and giggling. All the while, John knew this was a remarkably bad idea. He didn’t care, though. Even if this didn’t work out, it would surely make for a great story down the line. And if it did, then he’d be married to one of his good friends. Though he couldn’t shake the thought that if this went wrong, things would be awkward between him and Roger. Hell, this had the potential to ruin Queen. But he didn’t really care too much; he’d always found Roger to be particularly enjoyable to be around. They’d gotten into a lot of trouble together in the few short years they’d known one another. This wedding was definitely going to be the icing on that cake.

“Hey, hey, hey, whose last name are you guys taking?” Freddie asked, then hiccuped. “Fuck, I’m so drunk.”

Roger looked a bit puzzled, then looked over at John. “Uh… I guess I don’ really know.”

“I’m keeping mine. Pretty sure there’s another John Taylor out there, and I like how John Deacon sounds,” John stated. 

“I don’ wanna be Roger Deacon!” Roger stopped walking in favor of stopping to cross his arms and pout. “Two Deacys is too many!”

John stopped as well, feigning an offended look. He knew Roger meant no harm with his words-- he was just messing with him.

Freddie stumbled to a halt. “Y’know, you could just both keep your own last names. People do that sometimes; it’s very modern.”

After a moment’s consideration, Roger stopped pouting and nodded. “Sounds good, I like that.” Then he realized something as they walked past a jewelry store. “Shit! We need rings! If we’re doing this, we might ‘s well go all the way-- not like that, Freddie!” He scowled at Freddie when he saw his friend grin impishly. 

“I said nothing! You’re the pervert here!” Freddie responded, then yanked Roger and John towards the jewelry store they’d passed. “You’re gonna pick out the rings.”

Roger looked over at John, then grinned. “C’mon!” He took John by the hand and pulled him along into the jewelry shop. He held on to John’s arm for balance--he was pretty drunk at that point. He squinted to focus his eyes better and zeroed in on a pair of simple silver rings. “These ones,” he stated as he pointed at them. “Simple, but shiny.”

John took a second to examine them, then nodded. “I like ‘em,” he responded. He fumbled for his wallet and pulled out his credit card to pay for them. 

The jeweler, who looked horribly uninterested, took the two rings out of the case and handed them over to John. She’d seen this kind of thing happen a million times before, and it never ended well. The couples would always come back the next day and demand to return the rings they’d purchased while drunk or stoned the night before. With a soft congratulations, she sent them off with their rings.

Being that Roger was so drunk, neither Freddie nor John trusted him to hold the rings. Roger didn’t even trust himself. So John carried both of them in his pockets. The three of them continued down the boulevard, singing loudly and giggling the whole time. 

When they finally made it to the little chapel, Roger looked at John. He couldn’t help his big, goofy smile. He was about to marry one of his best friends. In a weird way, Roger was pretty excited. If this worked out, this could be really good for both of them. If this worked out, of course. Even though he was pretty drunk, he knew in the back of his mind that this had the potential to go incredibly wrong. Career-endingly wrong, as a matter of fact. But he was drunk as hell, and he simply did not care. This was definitely going to be a good bit of fun. Roger had always liked weddings, anyway. Plus, it meant he wasn’t going to be single anymore. What more could he possibly ask for? 

He took John by the hand and stumbled inside with him. “We’re getting married!” He told the young lady sitting by the door. 

She nodded. “Yes, that’s what most people come here to do.” 

Roger squeezed at John’s hand, then let go and grabbed a pen to fill out the necessary paperwork the young lady had handed to them. Things were really starting to getting real.

As the soon-to-be-wed couple filled out the paperwork, Freddie made it his job to document every step of the journey with photograph after photograph. 

Roger could hear the shutter going off, and each time he got more and more annoyed. “Ya don’ need ta take a picture of everything, you knob!” He scolded. 

“It’s for Brian; he needs to see your wedding photographs.”

Roger rolled his eyes, but accepted it. If their bandmate couldn’t be there physically, he could at least see the photographic evidence of their wedding.

Once they’d filled out the paperwork, John took the rings out of his pocket and handed them over to Freddie. 

Truthfully, neither John nor Roger really remembered the wedding all that well. It didn’t really sink in what had happened until the next morning, when Roger woke up in a room that wasn’t his own. He rolled over and spotted a mop of light brown hair on the pillow next to him. He cursed softly. Had he and John fucked last night?

A thousand thoughts rushed through Roger’s head as he felt himself start to panic. His first instinct was to shake John awake. Then he caught sight of his left hand. It took him a moment to process what it was. Shit. That was a wedding ring. He shook John harder to wake him. 

When he woke, John looked just as surprised as Roger had felt moments earlier. “What are you doing here?” 

Roger lifted his left hand and showed John his wedding ring. “Check your left hand.”

John furrowed his brow. He obeyed. A look of shock appeared on his face when he saw that he was wearing an identical wedding band. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”


	2. So Tired Trying to See From Behind the Red in My Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're beginning to piece everything together again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry it took me so long to get this sucker out, I lost inspiration for it months ago and then some of my friends in the discord server gave me the inspiration to get back into it! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I hope it won't take me as long to get the next chapter written as it did this one (though my track record does not prove to be very good)

“What are we supposed to do now?” The look on John’s face completely broke Roger’s heart. Sure, they’d gotten married on a stupid, drunken whim, but was it really the worst thing ever? Maybe, Roger felt, this could be good for them. He’d always been close with John. And John certainly wasn’t bad looking. Hell, he was actually pretty good looking.

“I mean… it’s not too late to get this annulled,” Roger answered. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

John shook his head. “I don’t know. Just… we can’t tell Brian. He’ll never let us live this down.”

Roger just nodded. He knew that was the case. Once Brian caught wind of this, he’d give them hell for quite a while about how he couldn’t leave those three alone for five minutes before they did something ridiculous. “Okay… Frankly, I have no idea how we got here, and I have no idea if we fucked or not. Do you remember?” Roger had blacked out by the time Brian left. He vaguely remembered calling him a pussy and lobbing a pillow at him, but after that, everything was a blur.

“Nah. I think I blacked out as we were leaving the hotel.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Do you feel sore at all?”

Roger snorted. “You’re assuming  _ I _ bottomed?”

John got incredibly sheepish after that. “I mean… it’s cause I’m not sore, and--”   
  
“Deacy, it’s fine.” He laughed. “I’m fine, honestly. We probably just stumbled our drunk arses back here and passed out.”

“Right, yeah. You’re probably right.” John paused for a moment. “Was Fred with us?”

“I think so. You saying we should go talk to him?” 

John nodded.

Roger sat up, then immediately flopped back down. “Jesus shit, fucking hangover.” Closing his eyes, he took a minute to compose himself and sit back up. “Okay, I need a piss, then we can go.” After getting up, he shuffled to the bathroom to relieve himself and fix his hair. After he finished prettying himself up just enough to look presentable, Roger let himself out of the bathroom. He noticed that John looked at him for a moment. The expression on his face was unreadable, which didn’t come as much of a surprise to Roger--John wasn’t really the heart on his sleeve type. “What are you staring at? I know I haven’t got anything on my face. I just washed it,” Roger grumped. 

John snapped out of his daze pretty quickly. “Nothing. Let’s go. Fred’s got to know something, I’m sure.” He slipped his jeans back on and pulled his boots on while he was at it. With that, they headed down the hall to Freddie’s room. 

Even though Roger knew that John knew that he had the hangover to end all hangovers, John still banged on the door to get Freddie’s attention. “Open up, you silly bastard! We’ve got questions!”

Roger winced at the sound of John’s voice. He wasn’t so loud as he was forceful sounding. And the banging on the door definitely didn’t help his splitting headache.

After a moment, the door creaked open. A very disheveled looking Freddie stood there in the doorway. “What do you guys want? Rog, you look like shit.” He rolled his eyes when Roger gave him a dismissive wanking gesture, then stepped aside to let them in. “Why are you two up so early? And why are you ambushing me together like this?”

Roger shut the door behind him and flopped down on Freddie’s bed. “You wanna tell him or should I, John?”

John just sighed and went over to Roger, picked up his left hand, then held up his own. 

Roger could see the gears turning in Freddie’s head as he stared at their hands. “Oh, shit. I thought that was just a dream!” Freddie laughed when he finally processed what his friends were telling him.

Roger pulled his hand back and put it over his face as he groaned. “No, it happened for real. We’re definitely married. We just don’t know how it happened.”

Freddie pursed his lips and thought for a second. “I think I might have some polaroids, actually. I remember picking up my camera, for some reason.” He shuffled over to the dresser, where he saw his camera and noticed a messy stack of photographs beneath it. “Yeah! Here.”

He picked up the stack and brought them over to look at the polaroids with the newlyweds. “Damn, Rog, you were completely wasted,” Freddie commented as he looked through the photographs. “I thought you could hold your liquor better than that. I’m disappointed.”

Roger reached up and smacked Freddie’s arm lightly. “Fuck you.” 

“Yeah, looks like you two got married by an Elvis impersonator. High class, lads.” 

“Alright, alright,” John looked at the pictures more closely. “Looks like that was the case after all. Huh. Didn’t think I’d get married in Vegas, by an Elvis impersonator, to Roger.”

“You and me both,  _ honey _ ,” Roger responded snarkily. He sat up and looked over John’s shoulder. “Damn, look at me. No wonder it feels like my damn head is about to split open.” He took the polaroid from John’s hand and looked at it a bit more closely. He really did look incredibly drunk, his eyes only half-opened, and his expression incredibly goofy. But what really struck him was that he actually looked happy. “Er… what exactly did I say last night?”

Freddie laid back on the bed and stretched out next to Roger. “You were pissing and moaning about being single at twenty-eight. Then I joked and suggested that you marry Deacy, and he said fuck it. That’s how I remember it, anyway,” he answered. “I didn’t think you’d take it seriously if I’m being honest. I’m kind of glad you did, though. Even if you two get an annulment, it’ll make for a great story down the line.”

“Yeah… if we get an annulment,” Roger agreed. He knew that was probably the best course of action, but there was a part of him that didn’t want that. A really big part of him, actually. He wanted this marriage to work out so bad it was almost embarrassing. 

“If?” John shook his head. “We should, Rog. This was a horrible idea! There’s no way that staying married isn’t going to make things weirder and more complicated than they already are.”

Roger sat up and winced. The sudden movement from horizontal to vertical made his head spin. “You mean to tell me that getting an annulment will make things less weird and complicated? How, exactly, would that be the case?”

“Well, for starters, it shouldn’t have even happened in the first place,” John began. “Secondly, we’d probably end up hating each other if we stayed married. That could be bad for the band, and I think the band is a smidge more important than--” he was interrupted by a knock at the door. 

“Freddie, are Roger and John with you still?” It was Brian.

“We’ll have this discussion later,” Roger told him, then got up and went to open the door.

Brian looked a bit surprised to see Roger opening the door. “Did you even go to bed last night?” He looked over Roger’s shoulder and saw John sitting on the edge of the bed with Freddie. “Did  _ any  _ of you go to bed last night? You’re right where I left you!”

“Yes, Dad, we went to bed. We just wanted to get together and talk shit about you before we have to spend hours on a bus with you later on,” Roger answered in a snarky tone. He wasn’t quite ready to own up to the fact that he and John had accidentally gotten married. Part of him was worried that Brian would notice the matching rings, but then he recalled that Brian was not necessarily the most observant person in the world.

Brian rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up. Go pack. We’re leaving soon. Maybe you can get some more sleep on the bus.” With that, Brian left their presence, presumably heading down to the bus. 

“So.. When are you going to tell him?” Freddie asked as he started getting his things together. The bus would wait for them, Roger knew, but none of them wanted to get to the next venue too late. That would certainly make for angry fans.

“Dunno, maybe after it’s all over. Then it’ll be a funny story we can tell while we’re drunk,” John responded. He got up and brushed past Roger to head back to his room. “I’ll see you guys on the bus.”

It bothered Roger that John kept saying that. That they’d get an annulment. Had John even considered what Roger might want? It seemed a bit presumptuous to assume that they both wanted this. But then, there really was no way this could work out, was there? Roger just sighed, then headed back to his room. He fumbled with the keys briefly, then opened his door and sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn’t give a damn if he held them up for a few minutes, he was upset! Stubbornly, he wiped the tears that rolled down his cheeks. He got up and started shoving the clothes that were all over his room into his suitcase. 

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he headed down to the tour bus. 

“You’re nearly late, Rog,” Brian commented. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He flopped down on the sofa and let his head flop back dramatically. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he was in a foul mood about something.

“You’re so dramatic,” John teased. 

Roger rolled his eyes. “Can we just tell him what happened last night? He needs to know at some point.”

Brian uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “What happened last night?” He asked. 

“I guess so, it won’t matter pretty soon, anyway,” John responded. 

Roger rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. “John and I got married last night.”

“Very funny, Rog. What actually happened?” It was clear that Brian absolutely didn’t believe him. 

“I’m serious, Bri. Look.” Roger held up his left hand and gestured for John to do the same. 

Brian looked from Roger’s left hand to John’s and furrowed his brow. “Oh, shit. You’ve really done it.”

“I have the pictures,” Freddie commented. “They got married by an Elvis impersonator. It was really… something.”

John shot Freddie a mean look. “Thank you, Freddie.” 

Brain chose to ignore Freddie. “So what exactly are you going to do about this?”

“Get an annulment, I guess,” John answered. “It’s the right thing to do.”

Roger looked a bit forlorn when John said that, but quickly wiped the expression from his face and nodded. “Yeah…”   
  
By the look on Freddie’s face, Roger could tell that Freddie hadn’t missed the expression he’d worn, even if it was just for a few seconds. “Have you two even talked about it?” 

“We were going to have this discussion in private,” John answered. “Because it’s, y’know, kind of a private thing.”

At that point, Roger was just staring at the floor. He was upset. He  _ really _ liked John and wanted nothing more than for this, albeit unexpected and unplanned, relationship to work out. “Why can’t we talk about this now? We’re all practically brothers at this point; we know all there is to know about one another.”

It was clear that John was a little bit annoyed by this. He let out a big sigh. “Fine. Look, we shouldn’t stay married because it’s not good for the prospects of the band. What if we start to hate one another? It would be terribly awkward if we were to get a divorce because we don’t get on anymore. It would make things so much more awkward than they need to be.”

“So? Fleetwood Mac had  _ two  _ couples in it and they both broke up and they’re still making music,” Roger responded, trying not to sound too indignant. He didn’t want to make his true feelings too obvious, but he knew that he was failing at that miserably. What he wanted to do was to seem completely neutral. But because he wanted to stay married to John so badly, he knew that he was making his real feelings clear.

John pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Roger, they hate each other. I don’t want to end up hating you, is my point.” He rubbed his hands over his face and groaned. “I really didn’t want to have this conversation in front of Brian and Freddie,” he murmured. “And why on Earth do you want to stay married so badly?”

Roger’s face turned slightly red at John’s question. “I mean… taxes?” He asked. He hadn’t really thought about it too much; he’d never really had any desire to get married before. Sure, he had the desire to fall in love with someone and be in a long-term, committed relationship with them, but he never had any desire to tie the knot. “And-and-and, what happens if someone sees us walking out of that office together? Then we’d really be screwed, the secret would be out.”

“Y’know, he does make a good point,” Freddie commented. “If you want to keep this a secret, you should. After all, do you know if you’re even legally married? It could just have been symbolic. I think there’s a boat load of paperwork to fill out?”

“Yes, that’s a good point! This might not even be a real thing.” The look on John’s face made Roger’s heart sink. Maybe he was being ridiculous, but he was really hurt by that.

Roger got up. “I need some space,” he said, then got up and trudged to the back of the bus where the bed cubbies were. He climbed into his and yanked the curtains shut.

What he didn’t expect was after a little while for the curtains to be pulled back open. It was John. 

John sat himself on the edge of Roger’s bed and put his hand on his shoulder. “You know, the biggest thing I’m worried about is losing you as a friend,” he said. “Because you’re one of my best friends. If we stay married, there’s no way of telling if we’ll hate each other or not.”

Roger rolled over to face John. “Yeah, but there’s a chance that we won’t hate each other. There’s a chance that this could be good for us. We don’t even have to live in the same house, Deacy. We can stay in our houses and just hang out as friends. Nothing says because we’re married we have to fuck, right?”

“Yeah, I guess. But I always thought that when I’d get married, it would be because I love someone.”

“Well, I guess that’s not the case,” Roger answered, his tone a bit clipped.

John sighed. “That’s not what I meant, Roger. I love you as a friend, but I don’t think I have the romantic love there for you.”

Oh. Of course that’s what John was going to say. Roger rolled back over to face the wall. “I need a nap, I still feel like shit.”

John sighed and got up. “Right, I’ll leave you to it.” He gave Roger a pat on the arm, then pulled the curtains shut.

Roger tucked himself under the blankets and pulled them tight around his body. He hadn’t expected to be so strongly affected by such a stupid mistake. And he hadn’t expected such a stupid mistake to make his true feelings known. Shit. He loved John.


End file.
